


Reminicent

by Hessybear



Series: It's In A Name [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Minor Character Death, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 00:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20684639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hessybear/pseuds/Hessybear
Summary: Some of Roger Donovan's rambling thoughts about his wife's death, Clyde's circle of friends, and how the town is affecting them.





	Reminicent

She had never minded that he had more than one mark. It was never something that they’d had to work past, because there was nothing to work on. She loved him, and he adored her and the very ground that she walked on. Him having more than one mark just meant that he had more love to give, had more reason to make his mark on the world--because he had one more person that he couldn’t disappoint. It wasn’t ever something that made her worry, there was no jealousy hidden in the way she laughed and baked and  _ loved _ .

Betsy was a shining beacon of light, who’s smile had gotten him through the hard times. She was always glowing, always smiling and always  _ there _ , until she wasn’t. Having died in his house, where warmth used to seep into every corner… things just felt cold now. He had no reason to search for his other soulmate, had no need for any sort of a romantic relationship, and he definitely didn’t want to hear the other men here rag on their wives and soulmates. He didn’t want to hear them go on about how awful and bitchy they were, he didn’t want to hear about that when he would give anything to be able to press a kiss to the back of his wife’s neck again. To be able to spin her around the kitchen and come home into her arms.

He couldn’t bear to look at her cookbooks, the recipes that she had put so much time and effort into, he couldn’t look at the kitchen that was the place that they made moments together. The moment she’d died her name was scarred over his left shoulder, and it was a confirmation that she was never going to be coming back to him.

He’d get along fine though, he had to-he couldn’t leave Clyde here alone, not when he was searching for his soulmate, and not with the people here who would try to teach him the wrong parts about soulmates, the wrong way to treat a  _ gift _ .

They were too set in their ways to change, but to have them poison their children because of it, to have them attacking children who weren’t soulmates and forcing them together… because of the whims of other,  _ newer  _ children? Because of this  _ Yaoi _ , that was being introduced? This asian comic bullshit that shouldn’t effect real life  _ children _ in any way, shape, or form? The adults were shamelessly causing pain to kids who found their soulmates and proceeded to keep them away from one another for their own cheap thrills.

For the want to be progressive when they were throwing things into the opposite direction. They were pushing and prodding and  _ breaking _ them apart… and he was left trying to fix things so his son wouldn’t feel the anguish of his friends, so that those poor boys wouldn’t take things out on his too caring, gullible boy. He had to try his best to keep his sons group of friends together, so that this episode wouldn’t shatter what his son held dear.

He’d invited them over on more than one occasion, keeping the curtains closed so they could just be  _ children _ . So they could figure out what kind of relationship they’d want, so they’d know it was okay for things to change and that nothing would be concrete. He had to teach these children who went to school with his son about soulmates, and help them unlearn what the others tried to insist was right. They had to be taught the difference between romance and platonic affection, they had to know that it was okay to want a hug and that it was  _ okay _ to be unsure about things.

Things were different without his Betsy, but he was going to make things work out in her honor. She would have loved each and every one of these children who made their son look like he could conquer the entire world, all of these children who loved and supported him when he needed it from peers rather than a guardian.

He’d held the two blondes who needed touch as much as his son did, who were confused and needed an outlet before things festered… The Tweak boy was well on his way to becoming a tweaker, with the way that meth was thrown into the coffee. With the constant taste testing and how his tongue was almost always burned or raw from the sheer amount of coffee he was forced to drink.

The Steven’s girl, who was developing early and put on a show of confidence even as she was looked at in a way that children should not be. Craig, who had a soulmate just as headstrong as he was, who’s parents tried to be supportive while still shoving him into the Tweak. The Testaburger child, who looked at Clyde’s jackets with longing and looked weirded out whenever they were called a she. Jimmy, ever the comedian who joked and joked and joked but still had  _ something _ behind his eyes. The McCormick’s child, who was too skinny and disappeared for days at a time, looking haunted when he came back and flinching at the most random of things, while letting out morbid jokes about death or brushing off pain with an “I’ve had worse.”

The Black’s son, who was loved and given most of what he asked for had so much pain but gave so much of himself to his son in a way that made him suspect. (It wasn’t impossible for someone to have more than one soulmate after all.) The Marsh children and how Stan was showing signs of  _ depression _ before he was even 11, the way that Shelly hid and refused to bond and punched her brother to try and take out her insecurities. The Broflovski’s, and how Kyle  _ cowered _ away from his mother whenever he stepped even slightly out of line, and how his dad seemed just as wary of her temper.

The Stotch child, who had a glass eye and bruises scattered in places too precise for them to have been given by accident. The volatile household he lived in-with parents who didn’t love one another, who didn’t trust and took that out on someone who might grow out of them if they didn’t.

The mistrust that all of these children had because of the amount of times they had been steered wrong by an adult, the way they figured things out themselves and things seemed to turn out fine. These kids were not alright, and they were important to Clyde, and Betsy would have adored all of them, would have offered their home to these children who needed help without a second thought. So he would do the same.

He’d help take care of the little world his son lived in, and do his best to keep the ends from fraying into nothingness. He was the last piece he had of Betsy, and he’d do well to make sure that he was taken care of.

He felt the other name on his shoulder warm as he stepped out. He’d be excited to meet up with her, but he wouldn’t have the time for something romantic, and he didn’t want to lie with someone so soon after his wife’s death. She had a son though, so they could work together to ensure the well being of these kids. To keep them on the right path and to teach them about Soulmate’s and their history.

He had another soulmate, and that was nice, he’d build a relationship with her separate from the one he’d had with his late wife. But first he had a lot of work to do.


End file.
